Sage Advice
by ThinksInWords
Summary: Combeferre probably had no idea what he was getting into when he came to Éponine to ask her for advice on the girl he's been crushing on. He especially wasn't prepared for the marble man to get involved in the discussion. Marble Man-verse, written for Christine's birthday


Sage Advice

Or: Eponine really likes making the marble man uncomfortable

Summary: Combeferre probably had no idea what he was getting into when he came to Éponine to ask her for advice on the girl he's been crushing on. He especially wasn't prepared for the marble man to get involved in the discussion. Marble Man-verse.

AN: HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRISTINE MY SOULMATE!

For those reading: make sure you've read chapter ten of Marble Man – some of the inside jokes will just be so much more fun when you've read about the cookie incident.

It isn't the first time someone's discussed his or her love life with her. She's talked to Jehan about R a lot, and she's heard more details about Joly and Bossuet than she ever cared to know – that misspelled tattoo Bossuet has in a private place is burned into her mind without ever even seeing it, thanks to Musichetta.

So it's not surprising that she'd find someone wanting to talk to her – it's not even surprising that this person is asking her for advice. The surprise is that it is Combeferre coming to talk to her about love and dating.

"Don't tell the other Amis about this," is all he asks of her.

"It's a deal," she holds out a hand for him to shake. "So, talk to me. Who is she?"

She has never heard Combeferre talk about a woman in this way, so she is curious who this woman is, the person who's captured his heart. Would she be a pretty blonde, wearing pastel dresses and cute kitten heels while she holds his hand? Would she be a brainy brunette, face stuck in a book and brilliantly matching his great intellect? Or would she be a feisty redhead who makes him smile after the toughest days and whose playful attitude balances out his seriousness?

"Her name is Valerie," Ferre pronounces it with its proper French pronunciation, wringing his hands as he talks. "She is a grad student at the university a few towns over, and I met her at the university library. She couldn't reach the book she wanted to check out – I got it for her. She's petite. Instead of thanking me, she asked me if I even knew what the book in question was about. She was rather mean about it."

And thus, the great Combeferre lost his heart to a tiny girl with a big mouth. The story has all the cliché markers of the silly things they can tell their children and grandchildren decades from now. Combeferre is rather tall, and the consummate gentleman, so this might get rather interesting, especially if 'Ferre is twitterpated after just the one encounter. This Valerie is in for quite the wooing.

"Was that the only time you've met her?" she asks, desperate to hear more.

After all, she doesn't know all that many happy love stories, especially not from the very beginning. She doesn't believe in happily ever after but she is willing to try if that happily ever after involves 'Ferre – if anyone can manage that, it's him. Jehan and R may try, together if they ever get around to it, but there is too much pain between the two of them to have any kind of guarantee of a happy ending. 'Ferre could have a happy ending and if there's anything she can do to make that happen, she will.

"I've been spending more time at the library," 'Ferre is almost blushing as he admits this part. "I've seen her around, and she's always smiling, and reading these big books that would make even Enjolras frown. Most of them aren't in French, or in English. And she knows my name, and I know hers, but I can't seem to advance past that."

Wow, he certainly is smitten. He is observing her from a distance, trying to figure out what to say – because this girl is smart and failing to impress her, whether intellectually or otherwise, would mean that he has no chance with her. That is, if he ever had one – since she does not know if this Valerie even has feelings for him. Sure, they're both aware of each other, and they know that the other person exists, but there has to be something beyond that to start a relationship.

There has to be flirtation and teasing and idea that it might work as a relationship.

"Do you speak any other languages?" she asks, trying to come up with a plan.

"Not well enough," 'Ferre seems upset at this. "Maybe a few words in German and Spanish, but nothing of substance. She's out of my league."

It is so odd to see Alain Combeferre, paragon of virtue, thinking someone out of his league. People like her, like the daughter of criminals with the less than perfect past, those people get to be concerned with people being better than them. She gets to believe that she isn't worthy of a guy like Marius. But for someone like Combeferre to believe something like this? It's astonishing, and something needs to be done!

"You're being ridiculous," she scoots her chair a bit closer to his. "You're a catch, you dork. Valerie would be lucky to have you. If she's the person you want to be with, I'll help you, because you're a great person and all you have to do is make her see that."

Sure, if the girl is not into guys or just not into 'Ferre, there will be absolutely nothing that she can do about that. But she has a feeling that this Valerie and 'Ferre might actually suit each other. Who knows, maybe the crime against humanity that Musichetta mentioned on the night that they first met will be rectified within a few years?

"I suggest you keep your distance for a while longer," she proposes, trying to think of the best plan of attack. "No stalking, no stringing her along, but taking the time to see what she likes and to make her a little more aware of your presence beyond just your name and what you look like. Make sure that she has seen you, and maybe strike up a very basic conversation a few times. Just small talk, and see how she responds."

If she hardly even knows he exists, she is never going to say yes when he finally does gather up the courage to ask her out. So he can be on the periphery, be reading in the library on weekends or nights grading his class' assignments. And they can talk a little bit, slowly getting closer until he gets the sign that she is actually interested.

"And please, no words of love," she warns him for that most of all. "Don't scare her off with love until you've at least had several dates and have had sex. Don't get too clingy."

Women hate overly clingy men, and they no longer believe the idea of love at first sight – that only happens in the movies or with guys that are only out to get laid and have no qualms about using women's feelings to get into their pants. And she doesn't want 'Ferre to be like them in any way. Too many men are like that already.

It's the way of the world to hold off on the words of love. Love scares people. And she can't blame them for that. Love is crazy and terrifying and usually ends in pain.

"Only guys who just want sex bust out words of love immediately," she warns. "Also, love is not a tool to get whatever you want. I used to date this guy. He told me he loved me all the time – he just always followed up with a request, and I couldn't say no."

Because she loved him, and he loved her, and he was just asking for this one little thing, so she couldn't say no to that. He was so charming – always has been, and she never had a good enough reason to say no anyway.

"Mademoiselle Éponine," Enjolras interrupts the conversation. "I am appalled! Who courted you? He has obviously horribly mistreated you!"

His face is filled with both surprise and righteous indignation, blue eyes wide as he makes his passionate declaration. He probably thinks that he's saying it on her behalf, because he has no idea what he's talking about.

She bursts out in raucous laughter, because the sheer hilarity of Enjolras knowing anything about courting is too much for her. Whatever they called a relationship back then is not even remotely related to dating in the real world. There is sex now – outside of marriage – and his old-fashioned ideas would be laughed at these days. That is, if he ever even attempted to court a girl himself. Would he even know how to court?

"I don't even know how old you are," she shoots back. "I'm sure it's been a while. And even back then, how many girls have you even courted?"

It wouldn't just be one century ago – he is missing too many of the references she occasionally throws out to stump him, and he had never even heard of the works of Jane Austen. It has to be more than two centuries ago that he was cursed, and things happened very differently back then. That is, if he had courted anyone back then.

"One," he mumbles, and she starts snickering. "Father wished me to do so."

Ah yes, the protesting man would even protest against love and commitment and romance. He can be nice to her – she is the only woman he really knows these days – but he is never going to interact with women romantically. He will just continue to think that everything is not proper and that way he will never get to experience anything so sweet and romantic. And why is she so bothered by that anyway?

"Then please let the person with romantic experience talk," she is a bit mean, because that's just easier. "Also, sex. Because we're in the twenty-first century and in this century people have a lot of sex. When I say a lot, I mean a lot. Multiple times a day, without even getting married first. Sometimes without even knowing each other's names."

It starts with his ears, slowly turning red as he fights to keep his composure. Then she can see some red across his cheeks, and it just keeps getting worse with every word. She is just about juvenile enough to want to make it worse – and just about hormonal enough to wonder just how far that blush spreads on his marble body.

"That is not at all proper, Mademoiselle," his face is turning even redder now.

"People don't really care about proper these days," she leans in a bit closer, hoping that makes him blush even more. "We just like sex. Because sex can be so very good. That is, if the guy knows what he's doing. Girls want orgasms just as much as guys do."

Has he ever talked about sex before? Has he ever had male friends even remotely like R or Courf or even Bahorel, ones who had conquests and talked about them? Yes, the term conquest is ridiculous, but it was probably the one used back when Enjolras – well, before he was made of marble. When he was young? Is that the right word?

"If they're not doing it right," she has to make it worse, "might as well masturbate."

With that, it seems like his head might explode. She is sure that proper young ladies from his time were not supposed to know about sex, let alone to actually talk about it in public. Proper ladies didn't even talk about masturbation – that was something supposed to be just for men. Well fuck that noise, because orgasms aren't just for men either, and if she is not getting any from a man, she is perfectly content to get her own orgasms. She knows what she likes.

"Thank you for the advice, Éponine," Combeferre is always a gentleman. "I just don't think that I'm ready for that sort of thing yet. I was just wondering more about the date stuff. I'd really like to ask Valerie out soon. Do you have any more advice for that?"

Well, she knew that she wasn't going to be able to make Enjolras blush forever, but she still hates that her minor rant was cut off. She was just going to drop some vagina terminology to really freak him out – and to show him how to be a good partner to whatever lady he ends up being with. After all, he is stuck in this world now, and he will probably eventually want to make love and maybe even procreate.

Now that is a weird idea. Enjolras as a lover and a father.

"Everyone is ready for masturbation," she has to pull out a big finish. "Cookie?"

Combeferre happily takes a chocolate chip cookie – baked just yesterday, they are still very fresh – and then she offers the cookie jar to Enjolras, who predictably turns green around the gills at the mere sight of them. Poor thing still isn't fully recovered from his tummy ache. That's what he had coming to him, with him eating all that dough.

It is surely immature to tease him so, but she enjoys it a little too much.

"About Valerie," she places the jar somewhere in the middle between Enjolras and 'Ferre, "flirting with her is a good start. If she responds well, you can ask her if she wants to have coffee or tea with you. It's very low pressure."

Going out for coffee is something easy and simple – no preparation and if there's no chemistry, it's easy to let a coffee date be a final date. There is no pressure to make it into a big thing, and dress and conversation are totally casual. Combeferre can charm her over coffee – because he can be very charming in that geeky way that a lot of girls love. Her old college roommate Aurélie would love him.

"There was no such thing as low pressure in my time," Enjolras voluntarily opens up for once. "Showing interest in any way meant that you were willing to court a young lady, and courting was expected to lead to marriage."

Ah yes, once upon a time marriage was sacred and nobody split up ever. The good old times – she can't say that without a ton of sarcasm slipping into her voice. There was a lot of stuff going on in those times that they've managed to improve upon since then, just like there were important values in love that seem to have fallen by the wayside these days. It is almost nice to have this ancient romantic around.

"Don't let me show you about marriage and divorce statistics," she mutters.

"I think Enjolras has learned enough for today," Combeferre tries to make it sound light and harmless, but it's obvious he's being teacher 'Ferre. "And I have to get to the library."

Looks like 'Ferre is going to put her advice to good use starting now.

"I want an invite to the wedding," she teases as he walks out the door.

If it were any other guy, he would have flipped her off. But no, Combeferre just slyly rolls his eyes as he closes the door behind him.

"I'll give you some time to process all of that," she teases Enjolras as she too walks away.

He just sits there, slowly turning back to his normal color. She can actually see the difference in color between him and his shirt now. That's new.

When she walks up the stairs, she swears she can hear him say something along the lines of "you deserve better".

AN: Yes, that's really it.

Go wish Christine/aurimaedre a happy birthday because she's awesome and this scene never would have happened without her!

We'll return to your regularly scheduled MM soon.


End file.
